Christmas Time's A'Comin'

This was the first take.
Things went downhill from there.
Deacon kept looking to his right to make sure that everyone else was looking at the camera.  Kyle never smiled again for real, and eventually just wanted to eat his candy cane bribe.  Poor Sean was vehement that it was really nap time, and further more proved that squinty eyes were the best he had to offer.  However, Bryce smiled 'til his face fell off. I'm cloning Bryce.

Oh anticipation!  Presents are piling up under the tree.  I had vowed to wait until Christmas Eve to place them under O Tannenbaum, but cheery Bryce today asked in the patientest, most happy voice when we could put presents out. I just had to give in.  The reason I had wanted to wait, was so that we wouldn't end up having tell Kyle no over man-handing gifts. But it turns out that replacing the batteries in his rescue ambulance truck with the loud as a firecracker siren system did the trick.  Major distraction for the three year old: check!

Back to the photo: Deacon was in the seventh Heaven over Sean's get up.  Please note: the shirt is courtesy of Bethany, who gave that "Little Brother" camo onsie to me pretty much the second we knew Sean was a he-baby. And those pants are from Amy and her mom, Libby.  I want it in print that people buy camo for us . . . (although if you look at Deacon's outfit, well, we picked all that out ourselves, so you know people know what suits a McMurray).

So speaking of picking things out.  Those two chairs in the background were my Grandma Jeanne's.  She inherited them from her mother, Helen, and recovered them, though bits of the lurid sixties orangey-pinky-yellow Helen esteemed peek underneath.  I'm sure this fabric was a remnant from the same bolt used to make Goldie Hawn's Laugh In get-ups.  It's lurid I tell you!  Which is funny since Grandma Jeanne covered them with a subdued Japanese Wedgewood-esque fabric.  I've totally rabbit-trailed.  Back to the picking.  I've been thinking for quite some time that I'd like to recover the chairs myself (which means I'd like to pay someone else to recover them). Mostly, I've pretty much fixated on a linen velvet in a burlap color (oh the romance).  But today, I thought-- AND I KID YOU NOT, "What if I asked Kelsey if there are any designer camo fabrics out there?"

Are you thoroughly horrified?!?!

Once I was done reeling from my temporary fit of insanity, I almost fainted.
Now, if I go insane again, but Kelsey refuses to find that shi-shi-pooh-pooh camo damask that some wealthy lady hunter commissioned for her den, I could always fashion some slip covers with safety pins from that leftover dinosaur camo-look fleece lurking in my hall closet.

Duck Blind

 

Deacon: Just like Daddy!

Elusive Antlers

 

When we returned to camp yesterday, our favorite be-plaided man had left us this note. Waiting for Phil's return we went on a stick walk found spiders galore and finished all the chips. Upon his return we all piled onto the four wheeler and we toured a bit. Ponds, jumps, puddles, rock outcroppings . . . really fun stuff. Phil was kind to me and slowly went through the puddles, but the boys squealed with delight as if he'd sprinted them all.

Later both boys rode their bikes about the campsite--with lots of four-wheeler noises. After a while I pushed Deacon around on his bike since his training wheels kept getting stuck on the uneven terrain. We took advantage of all the bumps and pretended to get stuck in the mud repeatedly. Then Phil pointed out that what we'd taken for mud spots were actually squashed cow pies. Sheesh Lewis and Clark would have been to have me, eh?

Near dark after another look for sticks walk the boys claimed the largest sticks to have a sword fight, wherein they managed a medley of the Dawn Treader, Harry Potter, and Jeremiah Johnson theme songs and one-liners. Deacon helped chop wood--very tiring if you're four! And around the fire I bored Phil to tears by telling the boys (by request) endless stories about our childhood spaniel.

Elk Camp, 2011

 

This is where we are. This is what we are doing.

Yes, I am wearing an excess of fleece layers (no it isn't that cold, but I came down with a chills n' all cold the night before we left town). No cell service. No internet. No tv. No laundry. No vacuuming. No bedtime. No dusting. Lots of chili and chips and sausage and beans and coffee and Theraflu (for me) and s'mores--Bryce's favorite part of each day. Lots of sprinkling rain and cozy fires. Lots of fleece. And a stream; which means lots of pants, socks, and shoes changes when rock-hopping goes south.

I brought the boys back to town today so Bryce could go to school and I could shower and curl my hair (priorities you know). Plus, I wanted to do laundry (most of my ancestors weren't pioneers, and it shows).

No elk yet--but for those of you that are interested in that sort of thing, there is a dandy herd bull, and neighboring hunters with horses to help pack it out--we are an optimistic lot!

More updates to come--hopefully with antlers . . .

Lady Bowhunter

 

Our teacher wore a tie-dye tee shirt and high water overalls; he looked like Santa's big brother. Technically, there were other females in the class; also about eight middle-school boys who were a HOOT! Each of them volunteered for everything, answered everything, and were so amusing just generally all around.

And I passed the test (not 100%), but I got my camo cap, archery license, and my own regulation book. Ha!

Velvet

 

Phil's trail cam finds a new victim.

Granddaddy's Birthday, April 29th

{Oooops! No pictures--I forgot my camera--so you're treated to my wonderous prose. And for the record I am not ashamed to say that I did watch the Royal Wedding--just later in the morning when BBCA re-ran it, but to make it up to Deacon--he wanted to know when the princess was going to leave the tv--let him watch Gunsmoke afterwards.}
Our very wonderful Granddaddy Dan had another birthday this Friday, and it happened to coincide with a rescheduling of Colton's first turkey hunt (the weekend before left my favorite eight year old with a rain-check).
Anticipating the immediate empty feeling that stands in during Phil's absence, we begged our sweet Grandma Greta to come visit to cheer us up (she arrived 20 minutes after Phil left and I was already filled with angst). She treated us to one of my favorite brunch spots, The Old European cafe in Pullman (Bryce had a snake pancake and ate a goodly amount of Grandma's abelskivers--he was lucky she was there, because I didn't offer to share mine). Next she treated each of us to book from Bruised Books. Then we raided Macy's (not really, but the boys love their new jammies and I can't wait to get all our new bedding through the wash and onto the beds). And she surprised us with Easter bags of loot! The hollow bunnies were the first casualties. After the boys were sugar-highed and tucked in for naps, Mom and I perused some very intriguing family tree info . . . and let's just say, I'm never going to name a daughter Isabella (sorry great-great grandma, but yikes!) Then Grandma Greta had to leave: immense sadness.
So deprived of a husband and father (and now beloved grandma), I rescued the boys from their nap and we zipped up to Coeur d'Alene to begin showering Granddaddy with birthday love. We had such a good time with cousins (it was like a reunion), and once Ava was certain that I wasn't there to take her back to Moscow with me, she was happy to see me. After an eleventh hour Costco trip (because if you can, you do), my sister and I got to enjoy a cozy-candlelight dinner (of delicioso steak) with our dad. Today, we had a great luncheon, joined by my little (big) brother Alex, followed by carrot cake--oh the [doubled] cream cheese icing, and presents. And let's just take a second to mention how much I just plain love my dad--he's fantastic. I always get all choked up writing his birthday cards, and have to hold back, so I don't sounds like the cheeseball I am.
We left Coeur d'Alene in the middle of naptime (my fault, because I first dragged my poor children through Target--I wanted everything, but somehow managed to just spend $13); which meant the car ride home bordered on disaster. As we drove and I pictured an empty house with no Phil (I know I've mentioned that I don't see how military wives do it, but really how do they?), and I was calculating just how early I could go to bed and not be pathetic. And then, minutes after unloading everything, he was home!
Last weekend, he got his tom turkey, so this weekend was all about that favorite eight year old of ours, Colton. Colton was ready to campout and a passel of willing male relatives had volunteered to brave the Spring elements to join him: his dad, Uncle Phil, Uncle Ian, and Papa Ron. Alas, miles and hours of uphill hiking, snow, snow-covered ground, wind, and rain later, camp broke up after 36 hours and I got my man. I am so glad that there were no gobblers to be seen or heard! (Colton doesn't read this blog so I can write that.)
Also, we found out that our faithful mouser, Harry Potter Cat, is not a he. Aaaggghhhh! Anybody want a kitten? Or four?

Archery Bull

Warning: severed head to follow . . .

Monday, while Bryce was still at school, Phil called--and I just knew he'd gotten his elk. (Sort of that you had me at 'hello' feeling.) Papa Ron was game to join Phil in packing out the 6 x 4 bull.

The boys loved it--we just might be raising a couple of butchers.

Thanksgiving Weekend Buck

 

Over the freezing creek, through the brush, to fetch our downed-buck we went. As you can see we had plenty of plastic fire power. Deacon poked him in the eye--to make sure he was dead? Or maybe that's just Deacon's trademark greeting.

The boys trudged through the brush, and wanted to try out their snow boots in the stream (but Mom & Dad were no fun and ferried them across instead). Bryce climbed up a steep ditch all by himself, and Deacon tried to--very hardy little men indeed.

And oh yes, the list of "things that have been in Lauren's trunk" is ever growing.

Mule Deer

 

Yea! Phil and the boys are enjoying themselves; the mule deer not so much.

This is Phil's first mule deer kill, and this is the first year Phil has purchased a mule deer tag. (And he probably wouldn't tell you that, but I'm proud of him, so I'm gonna tell ya!) He got up at 4 am, drove, hiked, hiked, hiked, lost 47 layers of skin off his feet and ankles, and then hiked some more. In the midst of all the hiking he got his mule deer, and the boys got to help with their first skinning (oh those childhood landmarks).

Lovin' the Elk

 

Phil and his brother, Dan, spent a few days camping and hunting nearby (so we got visits). On the last day Dan got his first elk and you can see that the boys both delighted in the kill in their own ways. Here is Bryce's first elk impersonation, and Deacon's first tongue-tug (and yes we washed his hands).

Trail Cam Photos

 

At long last we are the proud new parents of a Trail Cam. Here's a little collage of the best photos. I did leave out the shots of a black angus cow, and the close up of an elk's eyeball (though both were quite choice).